The Doctor In My Dreams Pt.2

I was flipping through Max’s drawings and my heart was sinking. While I wasn’t crazy I also wasn’t safe. Some depicted me standing in line at a store buying groceries with The Doctor standing behind me. Others were more like explanations of the noise I heard in the closet the other night. Just me standing in the middle of the room looking up at the ceiling. She saw things, and drew things no other person could know. The scary part wasn’t what she had seen of my past but what she had seen of my future. It got dark, one of the last pictures was dark but detailed. It was mostly of me and I looked frightened. Really scared. The Doctor was still a little ways off but he was reaching. He reached close, like, impossibly close. Almost out of the picture at me. It made me close the book and tuck it under my arm. This was too much. I need a fresh start. I went to a few classes and tried to get my real life head back on but I was distracted. I tried sucking down some caffeine. No luck. Looks like another day of classes down the drain. I was feeling pretty low. I mean, I am missing classes, I’m knock down drag out tired and all because I am quite literally burning the candle at both ends. I used to be such a good kid.

I texted Max but got no answer and headed over to the coffee shop at the dorm for espresso, you know, assuming they knew what that was. I perched on the steps outside by the chair ramp and tried to sort out my thoughts but the traffic was heavy and I felt in the way so I headed back to the dorm. Once I reached the courtyard, though, I spotted my mom frantically wandering looking at the little slip in her hand and at all the doors. She has no idea how to find me. I flagged her down and gave her a hug then led her to one of the benches.

“Mom, what are you doing here? What is going on?” I gave her a serious look and placed my hand on hers. She looked at her lap and returned her eyes to me. She came here for this talk.

“Baby, you have gifts. Well, sometimes gifts aren’t gifts. I mean, you’re special but not special.” She took a deep breath and pulled a fresh cigarette pack out of her purse. I have never seen my mother smoke a day in my life. “Okay.” She took another drag and blew it out. “Baby, when you were little you used to tell stories. At first they were normal, like you would talk about the neighbors’ yard or about some fight over at the neighbor’s house and we thought it was just you over hearing something next door. Maybe we just thought they were stories and that you would out grow them. Then things changed.” She took a long drag off of the cigarette and blew a long plume of smoke after it. She looked me dead in the eyes. She was so tired. “Baby, I should have told you a long time ago. When you sleep, well, you go places. Places other people don’t go in their sleep.” I held a hand up.

“I know this part. Who is the Doctor?” All business now. I should have just let her talk and get it out but my patience was running very thin and I was pretty ticked off that none of this was ever told to me before.

“Well, after a while your ‘stories’ got strange and you started talking about the man with the mask. You told us that he kept showing up but at first you just seemed curious. We chalked it up to another one of your stories. About a year after he first showed up you started becoming afraid of him. You told us that he kept trying to grab you but you ran away. Sometimes, you said you would hide all night long under the bed. When you stopped talking about it all together we got scared. You would wake up screaming but never told us why. We would find you in the morning sweating and getting sick. Finally, after two shrinks and a priest they sent us to a little witches shop. She told us what was happening to you and suggested that we try dream suppressants. By then we were so scared for you. Honey, you had lost so much weight, you barely spoke to anyone and when we would check on you in the morning there would be scratches on your shoulders and back. After a few months it was like you started coming back but didn’t show much memory of what had happened. You asked why you could never remember your dreams. The witch thought you had blocked out the memory and we thought it best it stayed that way. We told you that you had epilepsy and you accepted that.” She took another drag and squashed it under her foot. “Baby you have to come home. Please, get you things and come with me. I’m afraid of what will happen if… Please just come home.”

“Mom I can’t. I have to finish school. Besides, I am going to see Max’s aunt today. She seems to think her aunt will have all the answers.” We hugged and I assured her I would be fine. She cried a little and apologized but I hugged her again and told her I loved her, that I would let her know whatever I found out and convinced her I would take care of myself. Great more pressure. This whole visit had been emotionally draining and I still had more questions and Doctor to evade every night. Why had this thing decided to follow me? How do I make it stop? Will I have to stay on those stupid pills my whole life? I texted Max with the cliff notes version and used some time to reflect.

There was a little spot Max liked to draw sometimes over by the river running alongside campus. I parked myself under a tree and leaned against the warm bark. I was feeling worn so I closed my eyes for only a moment. No sooner had I closed my eyes did they pop back open. It was dark now but it was far too early. Shit, I’m back here. I fell asleep. I turned around and looked back through the woods toward the school but I didn’t see anyone. There has to be something I can find out. I stepped through the small grove of trees into the leading to the parking lot and there he was. Closer than he had ever been.

He just stood there. Waving his blade back and forth, his eyes crinkled at the corners and he was smiling. I stepped toward him thinking he would step back but he didn’t. Instead he rushed past me and into the woods. He was so fast. I bolted after him, though, I have no idea why. When I pushed through the trees he was standing over my sleeping body with a hand on my shoulder. Blood dripped from his blade. Had it been there before, I couldn’t remember. In fact I was getting dizzy, as though the world was spinning around me. I lunged after the Doctor to shove him away from me. If I wake up he can’t hurt me, I thought. When I lunged it felt more like a free fall on top of my own body. Suddenly, it was bright again but my eyes hurt and my face was stinging. It was Max, she was slapping me

“Wake up you sonofabitch. Wake up now!” Another hard slap. I held up a hand and she dropped to her knees. “Shit, I thought I was too late.” She held up a new sketch pad, I completely forgot to give hers back. In the picture was me, slumped against the tree where I sat. Over me stood a massive shadow like creature. Its clawed hand was pulling something from my body. I looked up at her and I was terrified. “That, my dear, is your soul. That is what almost every demon wants. Your soul, it’s the closest to living they can get. Sadly, once they try to get a hold of you, well, they are a bitch to get rid of. Now stand up because we are going to see Auntie.” She held out her hand. The confidence in her voice and the knowledge she spoke of left me feeling a bit skeptical. How did she know I was here? That it was happening right now. How would she have known I would fall asleep. I felt like everything normal was slipping away. One minute I’m trying to get through classes and the next I have Freddy Kruger stalking my dreams.

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

“That’s why we need to visit Aunt Mysty. She will explain everything but I can get you caught up on the way at least. Make sure your stable, an attack like that can mess up your equilibrium.” Shit, that’s why I was so dizzy. That ass hole was trying to jack my soul. Most people come to college to work out their demons. Me? Well, I quite literally have demons to face. Perfect.

We walked to her car in the parking lot while I tried to process this but no luck. Talking it out usually works with other things let’s try it.

“So, I wander around in ghost world as a kid. Doctor man, what, taking a liking to me? Starts out following me but never gets close. Takes years before he starts trying to snatch me in dream land. Finally, he scratches me up so momma called the doctor and the doctor said, no more Mikey dreaming in his head. So where did he go? Has he always been around? I could see you on the bench, even though you couldn’t see me so I guess it’s safe to assume he’s probably around here somewhere.” Max nodded but didn’t say anything. “So what do you have to do with all this? How long have you known about me, this, I guess, gift?” She sighed heavy, confession time.

“Alright, it’s like this. My story isn’t too different from yours. I drew things and they weren’t always rainbows and ponies. I drew tragic things and the school started getting concerned. Thought I was getting beat up at home or something and used drawing to act now. Not the case by the way.” She said looking directly at me. I wonder how many times she had to defend her parents. She continued, “Couple shrinks didn’t believe that I was seeing visions in my dreams. They thought it was just a very vivid imagination and told my parents I needed drugs and therapy to tone down my sometimes violent pictures. My parents were really worried about me but didn’t think drugs were the way to go. Especially when the things I drew started coming true. My mom called my aunt and said, ‘Okay, there is something to your ghosties please come fix my kid. Aunt showed up and sure enough I have abilities. I see things in my dreams as well as the occasional daytime vision. You, however, Mr. Elliot, You come through clear as a bell and have been for a long time. Even before we met in high school. When I saw you for the first time I freaked out and ran home to call Mysty and tell her you were here. She explained that your mother had come to her and I was to keep a distance. They didn’t want me to tell you anything for fear your memories would come back to haunt you.” She stopped turning down a dirt road going a little too fast.

“Woah there Andretti, you in a hurry?”

“I am afraid time is running out for you. We would have been more prepared if we had known ahead of time you were going to quit the pills. Stupid English class moved up the schedule.”

“Wait, what schedule? What are you talking about?” I started feeling like the whole world has been conspiring against me.

“Short version, we knew that eventually you would start asking questions. When we found out you were going for psychology we knew you would figure out the truth about your meds. Dr. Singh didn’t connect the dots with the assignment since it’s one he does every year. When you emailed him it took a couple days for the problem to register and called your mom.”

“Ah ha. I thought that was unusual.”

“Now, he has gotten close enough to grab you. Do you remember where he touched you first?” She looked me over quick and looked up just in time to slam on her brakes before plowing through the front door of a little cabin.

“I don’t know, my chest probably.” She pointed to my chest and I pulled my shirt up. There was a deep purple bruise spread across my sternum as though someone had simple punched me hard in the chest. I looked up at her clearly shocked.

“It takes time for these nasty fuckers to build up enough strength to attack. Today may have given you another week or so before he can get you. I know your memories hazy but can you remember a time where weird stuff was happening while you were awake? Missing objects, strange bruises or cuts or even seeing something in the corner of you eye frequently.” I thought for a moment but it didn’t take long. My stuff was always getting moved around but I chalked it up to always being so busy and simply forgetting where I put things. I get bruises all the time but I can be clumsy sometimes. Jesus had I really found a way to not notice being haunted? She noticed the look on my face and she nodded. “That’s what I thought.” She pushed her door open and got out. Standing before the little cottage and smiled a bit and held her arms out to the side. “Welcome to the world of the paranormal my dear. Here we are going to figure out how to get that monkey off your back before..” She stopped and this made me uneasy. “Well, let’s just get rid of him, shall we?’

The cabin didn’t look very big from the outside. It was your standard log cabin with a few potted flowers hanging from the farmer’s porch roof. A few over grown weeds along the driveway and across the front of the house. I could smell the slightly stinky but slightly pleasant smell of flowers growing somewhere. Perhaps behind the house. The front porch looked a little rickety and creaked when I walked across it. Max hopped up the stairs, a bounce in her step. You could tell she had been here many times over the year. She pulled the dirty screen open and the rusty hinges groaned and protested, she didn’t seem to notice. Once I stepped through the door I became disoriented as the inside did not match the outside at all. Inside was still a log cabin but it was enormous inside. Much larger than the footprint of the house should allow. There must have been some additions right on the back of the house but even then the ceilings looked like they were cathedral ceilings but that didn’t make sense since the cabin was only one story from the outside.

A middle aged woman leaned her back against the counter and smiled as she watched me gazing at her home. “See anything you like?” Max walked over and hugged her aunt perching herself on the edge of the counter beside her.

“I’m sorry I just. I wasn’t expecting this.” The house was decorated with modern art and sculptures. It was neat and tidy but cozy. No plastic on the furniture or anything. “I guess I was expecting,”

“Dreamcatcher and chickens feet. Maybe a few voodoo dolls?”

“Something like that.” I chuckled a little, embarrassed.

“Not all witches live in the dust and load up on tacky jewelry. Some of us try to keep things as normal as possible. Makes my home a little more comfy.” She said gesturing around the room. “Now, my dear, you look far worse than I had expected so you need to take some time to rest. I have got some tea made for you.” She lifted a kettle off the stove a poured two cups. Before I had a chance to inform her I was not the tea drinking type and held a hand up and shut me down. “I know but this is going to help you relax and get your strength back.” She handed it to me and handed a second mug to Max. We both took a sip and I noticed she hadn’t made one for herself.

“Not your flavor?”

She grinned a wide grin at me, “Never touch the stuff.” Her voice sent a cold chill up my spine. I set down my cup but it was too late. The edges of my vision started to blur and the room began to get dim. Mysty grabbed me by the arm and led me gently to the couch sitting me down. Max walked over on her own and kicked her feet up on the coffee table littered with tech magazines. I tried to fight her and sit up but she was persistent. I could hear Max beside me, though she seemed miles away,

“Its alright dude. You will feel better. Don’t worry about Doctor man. He can’t get you here.” I took a deep breath that felt like a yawn. Shit, I was falling asleep. She said not to worry. I couldn’t fight anymore. Shit, what the hell did I get myself into this time?

The Man On The Train

The officers and I pulled into the driveway with hushed tones. We knew he was inside and the kids were probably in there too. From the backseat I pleaded with Bobby to let me help. Let me get those kids out safely. I mean, this is why I’m here anyway isn’t it?

Bobby had been a family friend for years. He was a bit gruff but a nice guy most of the time. He was fiercely protective of his family to a fault. Always willing to throw himself in the line of fire before letting his wife, a crisis negotiator, use her skills to diffuse tense situations and she was the best in her field.

Despite all that, I loved him and wanted to slap him all at once when he said,

“You need to wait here. We don’t know what that guys got going on in there. He could have claymores lining the dining room wall we just don’t know. Since we armory was robbed we have to be on high alert.”

“Why am I here then? Why did you bring me here? Am I supposed to just wait out here for the train to come by? For this guys friends to show up?” The explosion had demolished civility and returned humanity to neanderthal times but with better tools and men with no value for other humans. Women and children weren’t safe, the weak and feeble weren’t safe, pretty much crude men ran the world and the result was sickening and horrific.

“Stay here or so help me I’m locking you in with the kids.” He was getting angry with me but there was a chance there are several small children in there suffering who knows what.

“Damn it, those kids are scared and will either hide or run away when you go busting in rambo style. You need me to get them out before shit gets bad.” His voice thundered as he climbed out of the car and towered over her. He had nearly a foot over her despite her being tall for a woman.

“Stay here! I mean it, Tasha, do not come inside.” Turning on his heels he approached the side of the house. It was an old colonial that had since been converted into tiny dismal apartments. It made me sad to think that a once beautiful home was once filled with childrens laughter and family dinners. Now it housed a group of perverts renting kids until they were no longer useful then sold again into slavery as either wives or servants.

A tall over grown fence lined the other side of the driveway blocking view to the yard on the other side. Tiny little voices floated over fence. Whispering, or maybe whimpering. A small tinny sound, crying perhaps. With out another thought my feet cleared the car door easily and I tried to pry the hedges and weeds aside but the vines were woven tightly through the chain link fence. I made my way down the chain link toward the road. That is dangerous, bandits or marauders or whatever you wanted to call the mess that passes for men these days could show up any moment and try to grab her. Women who aren’t badly scarred are hard to come by these days and she would fetch a high price. Hence the heavily armed entourage.

By the time I’m nearly by the road I hear them behind me. They must have gotten the guy but couldn’t find the kids. I could hear things like, ‘didn’t see any’, ‘no toys’, and then,

“Where the fuck is she going? She is gonna fuck it up!” By now I was peeking around the hedged fence watching closely to the tracks. If that train rolls around the corner for a visit I gotta get the hell out of there and into hiding. The coast looked clear as I slipped out of the driveway and around into the next. The driveway next door was empty but the house had a garage door and it was open about 6 inches and as I approached the house I could hear that tiny little sound again. It was tears and whimpers that came from under the door. On the other side of the hedge I can hear the guys back at the car. Bobby was pissed.

“I told her not to fucking move. She never fucking listens and she’s gonna get herself snatched.” Shaking my head I whispered over the hedge.

“I can hear you, jack ass, and you didn’t find the kids did you?” he ignored me.

“If those guys roll down the tracks right now you’re fucked.” After a pretty heavy eye roll and squatted to look under the door, hand on my weapon and feet poised. Sure enough, curled up in a corner, was a little boy scared and crying.

“Hey, kiddo. Cavalry came looking for you. You’re safe now but you need to come with us.” There was no telling how long this boy had been here or what he had to endure but it was over for him and she could take relief in that. After some encouragement the scared child climbed out and into my arms. He was no older than 4 or 5 and frail. My heart broke a little and I scooped him up and headed back down the driveway. No sooner did I approach the street and the tracks did I hear the rumble. Crouching she placed her hand to the ground. “Shit!” The trains coming. The boys heard to because the car started and was puled behind the house. I turned tail and headed back up the driveway separated from her rescue team. We climbed back into the garage with our backs to the wall and prayed the train would keep going and not stop for supplies here. When the tracks began to whine and the brakes started squealing my heart skipped.

There was some talking and yelling and soon there were footsteps running up the driveway and maybe the one the guys were in. We were out numbered out gunned and unprepared. Bobby was gonna kill her if they lived through this. As the footsteps approached she saw combat boots. I raised up on one knee pushing the kid behind me. One hand on my gun the other on the blade in my boot. These boots though, they are women’s boots, a hand grabs the bottom of the door and yanks revealing a badly scarred red head looking very surprised. That’s when it occurred to me, there were freezer chests in this garage. The humming I heard the first time was the generators in the back. As quickly as I drew my weapon she held up a hand. Not a warning but more of a ‘wait’gesture. A male voice came from behind her and I was grateful for the dividing hedges.

“Got the beers yet woman?” The woman held her finger to her lips for us to remain quiet.

“Getting them now but Jimmy’s getting low, let’s make sure he’s not drinking our supply.” An annoyed grunt then,

“Prick won’t be drinking anything on us again. Some asshole offed him. Probably bringing in the young ones again. People don’t like that shit.” Red head became red all over when she looked at the boy behind me. She quickly crossed to the cooler and lifted a couple cases of beer out. She started walking out and mouthed ‘Get him out of here now!’ Don’t have to tell me twice.

The woman left and we listened for more noise coming from the road. There was some incoherent yelling some sobs from mothers forced to give up their kids food supply just so the conductors could see the fear in her eyes. This had gotten so out of control that the corrupted were falling into an even worse state of evil and depravity. We were no longer people but evil savages. The huge machine chugged back to life and slowly but surely lugged down the track toward the next terrified village of poor saps.

Before I had gathered my thoughts the garage door ripped open again and the gun came out and I nearly emptied the clip into Bobby. Just as his face appeared below the door she dropped her gun and sagged her shoulders. Bobby looked down right ill. He hugged me tight.

“Why? Why don’t you ever listen to me. You’re lucky they started using chicks for supply runs or your would be someones caged puppet.” Sadly, he had raided a sadistic warehouse where people were used as art pieces and kept in cages no bigger than its occupants. His sister was in one and she had died before we were able to get her out.

“I heard this guy from the other side and I had to get him out.” Bobby turned to the kid.

“Where’d you come from?” The boy pointed to the small hole in the bottom corner of the fence between the driveways. “You escape on your own?” The boy nodded slowly but never spoke. “We’re gonna get you out of here, alright?” Turning to me, “They brought the car around, get in and I swear to god if you get back out before we get home I’m going to chain you up myself.”

I hesitated after the boy was loaded into the back of the car. Bobby gave me a tired look as though to say, I don’t have it in me to deal with more of your shenanigans, so I laid it out for him.

“This has to end.”

“It will.”, he replied

“No, we have to do something. There is no cavalry, we are the cavalry. I can’t keep hearing these kids stories. We can’t keep living in constant fear.” I motioned to the meek cowering people emerging from their homes in the wake of the train leaving. Checking out the damage and worrying over lost food and contaminated water. The men running the train, the conductors, left fire and destruction, fear and blood everywhere they went. It was like the whole world was at their mercy. Most of the people left here were disfigured women and children, the elderly that hadn’t been killed off for their food, tobacco and access to water. Here people could go into town and find things or grow food in the empty plots left behind by unfinished homes and abandoned ball fields. So the conductors would roll down the tracks and collect what ever the local village managed to scrounge up. We never knew when they were coming or how much they would take.

“And what is it you are going to do?”

“I don’t know but I need your help.” I planted my on my hips.

“Girl, we are not prepared for what ever vendetta you’re ready to wage with the conductors. You don’t even have a plan.” I planted a hand on the top of the door and hopped in the back seat with the boy.

“If you won’t help me I will find someone who will.” He rolled his eyes and started grumbling while sliding into the passenger seat. The other marines were shaking their heads and chuckling. I hadn’t made it onto their team because of my good looks. Black op’s teaches you how to fight for yourself. Being a woman teaches you how to get what you want. There was no way he was going to let me go anywhere where he didn’t have eyes on me.

So that was it. As we turned out of the driveway and kicked up the dust racing in the opposite direction of the train we all knew. We were going to war. We were going to do what the rest of the world was too scared to do.

The Doctor In My Dreams

The whole thing seems like a dream. I suppose it all could have been. At this point I'm not sure I know the difference. I guess I should begin with who I am and why you should care. Although, I'm not entirely certain why anyone would. Either way, my name is Mike. I go to college on an academic scholarship. I am studying psychology and I have had epilepsy since I can remember that is well managed by medication in that I can't remember having a seizure, ever. Didn't realize how odd that was until I began university and started my English requirements for my major. Communications I believe it was called but what is really important was the assignment that was to be completed by the conclusion of that semester. A dream journal. Well, for most of you I'm sure there is no issue there but for me, well, I don't dream. Ever. It was never something I thought about and was never really brought up before. Most people ask how you slept not what you dreamt and since most people forgot about their dreams by then so it never came up. Until now. After we picked up our materials for the next few assignments I headed out to lunch and tried to study for another class but all I could think about were dreams. And that's where it all went wrong.

After making my way back toward the dorm I called my Mom to do a little info gathering. I am a pretty healthy person so I don't go to the Docs often so I have never had to handle my own medical info.

"Hey Ma, I had a question for you. We have to do a dream journal in my English class but. I don't remember any of my dreams." Before I could even elaborate further she spouted out what sounded like a practiced answer.

"Oh, honey you don't dream because of your medication. But don't worry, the doctors said it's absolutely fine you just simply don't remember them. Just keep taking your meds and everything will be fine." There was a pause, "You are taking them right, like we talked about?" I stared at the screen of my phone for a moment. I had always been good about my meds. Risk of seizures and all.

"Yeah Ma, of course." A deep sigh drifted over the phone and she mumbled something about the stove and said she loved me before hanging up abruptly. Again, I just stared at my phone. Well, that was a little strange. I tried to shrug it off and go about my day but now I was afraid of failing my assignment. If I screw up here I could lose my free ride. I e-mailed my professor about my inability to complete the assignment and asked if there was an alternative assignment I could complete instead then headed out to pick up some beer because a day like this ought to end with beer.

By the next morning I was climbing out of my hazy stupor as well as my bed and rummaging up some change for the coffee shop down the street. I packed up my laptop and charger, a few books and headed out. By the time the life giving black liquid finally reached through my stomach into my soul I was awake enough to check my email. There was a response from my professor. Awesome, at least I can get an idea of how to pass this class but when I opened it a bomb went off in my brain and it was full of questions. In an effort to keep this post tidy I'll paraphrase the email.

"Mr. Elliot,

While I am aware of your condition I am also aware that the medications for your condition do not prevent the dream stages from occurring. In some severe cases some medications can repress the active state of your brain in order to prevent seizures from occurring. This will result in bizarre and sometimes nonsensical dreams but never prevent them. If you are truly not dreaming at least a couple times a week then I recommend you either see a doctor as that may simply be a symptom of something else or you cut out the drinking. Either way please let me know what your intentions are for this assignment.

Thank You,

Dr. Singh"

I sat back hard in my chair catching the attention of a couple other student taking advantage of the fast wifi. What the hell did that mean? So basically I'm either still sick, my mother's been lying to me or I have been throwing back a case of Buds a night and I knew that wasn't the case. I tried to remember my last dream. Nothing, in fact, my memory of most of my past is a bit blurry and disjointed. I once knew a friend that was one behavioral meds for years and he was very zombie like. Did fine in class but didn't have much energy and his attention span was shoddy at best. One day he decided he couldn't take it anymore and stopped his meds. He faked popping his pills every morning and every night and after a few days the light came back into his eyes. He started hanging out with us again, his appetite came back and he seemed happy again. He moved away not long after that but he seemed to have been handling the change just fine. I worried about having a seizure but I figured if that happened I would just go back on the meds and tell my mom what was going on. After all, I couldn't risk failing my class, the pressure was high to do well so I had to do this right.

Pill time is usually right after dinner (of after ramen for college students) so I popped that days dose into a little mint tin on my desk. I wanted to try to keep track of how many days I was off the drugs. My phone rang and it was Mom. To voicemail she goes. I was nervous and I wasn't sure how I was going to feel since I couldn't remember a time I wasn't taking them.

Day one was pretty uneventful. I hadn't dreamt last night but I do remember something about a foggy, blurry room. Mine maybe but nothing else. Maybe it was the drugs messing me up but I wanted to trust my professor wasn't just making something like that up. Why would he want to lie about the side effects of my medicine? It didn't make any sense.

Day two proved a little more memory of dreaming. During the day I felt normal if not a little tired. As though I hadn't slept well in a few days. Adjustment to the lack of additional chemicals in my brain. Prof emailed me back wondering what I planned to do about the journal. In the process of my experiment I had nearly forgotten the point of it all. I shot back an email, something about a change in meds and my plan to struggle through trying to remember and that the journal might even prove helpful. Never heard back from him today so I guess that was an acceptable answer.

Day three I woke up feeling wiped, totally exhausted. I could remember some more vague details about the dream from the night before. I was right, it was my room I had been standing in the night before. It was night but the room felt darker, like light couldn't stay in the room. I walked around looking at every detail. Everything was where it should be from the photos taped to the wall to the junk food wrappers littering the floor. I looked over to my dorm mates' bed but it was empty. I remember thinking it looked like someone was in it but it was empty. I stepped out the door, though I couldn't remember opening the door. The hall seemed abandoned and there wasn't even a whisper behind the doors of the other dorms. It was never this quiet. I'm not sure how long I walked around the building but I started feeling sleepy after a while and made my way back into my bed room. The strangest part was that I saw someone laying in my bed. Must have been my drunk roommate passed out in the wrong bed. I tried to wake him but my hand passed right through him. I leaned over to look at his face and it felt like my heart stopped. It was me laying there. As soon as I recognized my own sleeping face I woke up with a start in my bed. I was sweating and exhausted.

All that day I was distracted and confused. Why did I dream about myself and my own room? Why was I so tired? I hadn't even noticed that I hadn't had any seizures or anything but then I began to worry that maybe I was having them at night and that was why I was so worn out. I had my communications class that afternoon and figured I would take a look at some other dream journals to see if anything seemed familiar. In my adult life I had never dreamt so what a dream was supposed to look like or feel like was a mystery to me. Once I got to class a friend of mine was already sitting in the back filling out her dream journal. Most of her classes were in the afternoon or at night so she likely only woke up a couple hours ago.

"Hey Max, good dreams?" Max and I had been friends since high school. She had purple hair and wore chucks and a nose ring. She wrote horror stories on reddit. I liked her but she was one of those girls that didn't really date and certainly wasn't into college boys. More the hipsters with guitars and a man bun type.

"Nah, just the standard flying over the city into a naked in the class room. I wish my dreams were more interesting but I guess I work all that out with the stories." She chuckled.

"Mind if I take a look?" She dropped the notebook on top of my desk and pulled out her phone. Prof was late but that wasn't unusual. Sometimes he didn't even show up but emailed us half way through class to tell us he wasn't coming. (He had a new baby I think.) The notebook told of Max flying over palm trees then dipping her hands in the ocean (we don't live near the ocean but she was from California.) Then the narration jumps abruptly from that to her standing in a lecture hall in front of hundreds of students. She was trying to talk about something but was stuttering and sweating until she looked down and she was in her underwear. She shouted and ran out of the hall waking up only a few moments later in bed. "This normal for you?" I asked. She seemed puzzled and tilted her head to the side as though she was trying to hear something.

"I guess so, it's a normal dream I guess. Why?" As I mentioned this was not a normal topic of conversation for me so I hadn't realized she didn't know about my condition. Since I had never had a seizure in front of anyone most people didn't even know about my condition. I explained my meds and my email to the prof, his response and my experiment. I expected to be reprimanded for not taking my drugs but instead her confusion only increased. "I have a cousin with epilepsy. He can't play video games or go to see a movie with bright flashes. Sometimes even an arcade can trigger a seizure. I have seen him have one and it's a traumatizing thing to see the first time. He is on medication to control it but, Mike, there is no cure all. You would still be having episodes even with the meds. Not to mention he could still dream."

This threw me hard. What the hell was going on? I was going to have to call Mom and find out what the hell was going on. "Why would someone want to stop dreaming all together? That doesn't make sense to me. Why would my mom lie about something as serious as epilepsy?" She straightened in her seat.

"Only thing I have ever heard of is for people who have had night terrors or PTSD or something. What have your dreams been like since you stopped taking your meds?" I told her all I could remember and her eyes went wide. "I want to know everything you dream tonight. Everything, every detail person or place you see." I agreed just as the professor walked in and let us know the lecture was rescheduled for next week and to keep up with the dream journals. All the students started filing out into the halls and Max stuck by my side. We talked about other classes but the conversation went back to my dreams and my meds. We talked about me walking around my own dorm. She had a plan for me. She wanted to me try to leave the dorm. Explore campus in my dream. This confused the hell out of me, from her it sounded like she had no control over her own dreams but that the brain took over as though you were merely watching a movie. I shrugged and suggested I would try but while her day was just beginning mine was coming to a close. I had some homework to finish and I would text her when I woke up to let her know what had happened. This whole thing felt odd and made me feel a little bit crazy.

Day four was certainly more interesting. I headed to bed and was asleep in no time, I was beat. Then it felt like I woke up and I was staring at the ceiling thinking this was bullshit, I had a big day tomorrow and I needed something for my dream journal but that wouldn't happen if I couldn't sleep. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed I dragged myself up, roomie was fast asleep in his bed so I shuffled over to the door. I wanted to get a bottle of water from the vending machine and try to work out whatever energy was preventing me from sleep. I carefully stepped into the hall and realized the darkness crept in just like the night before. Instead of closing the door I turned to see my own body lying in my bed once again. It wasn't such a shock this time but still a bit jarring but it occurred to me what Max had said about getting outside so a walk seemed to be the best idea. I shuddered, this whole dreaming thing is so strange and I wasn't sure if I liked it, in fact, I thought about taking my meds the next day so I wouldn't have to do this again. Suddenly, a strange kind of thrill came over me. I just wanted to wander around and explore the parts of campus that all the sleeping students never saw. Feeling like the whole place is abandoned and just for you was almost exhilarating.

As I stepped through the door to the courtyard outside I couldn't smell the air, in fact it was nearly silent. The only sounds was like a distant chuckle like someone had read a mildly funny meme on facebook. On one of the benches outside the door sat Max. She had on her headphones and a sketchbook on her lap. I approached her and took a seat beside her but she never looked up except to look back at the door. I hadn't heard it shut, had I even opened it? I couldn't remember. I tried getting her attention,

"Whatchu drawing?" Nothing…. "Hey, I'm talking to you nerd." She looked up at the door again, back to her book. I looked at the page she was working on, it was a sketch of the courtyard, someone sitting on the bench and a man looking over her shoulder. I looked at her quizzically. So could she see me? I placed my hand on her shoulder and her head jerked up. She shivered pretty hard and looked directly at me. She didn't look directly into my eyes but seemed like she looked through me. As though she couldn't see me at all. Waving my hand in front of her face I realized that she couldn't, in fact, see me. After a few moments she looked at her watch, the door, then picked up her things, shoved them in her bag and walked away without another word. I sat back on the bench trying to make sense of what had just happened. Why am I dreaming about this? This hadn't happened before and I couldn't remember if I had ever met with her at the dorms at night. I was staring across the courtyard pondering what kind of dream I was having and why I was lucid enough to control myself and make decisions. Max had said that wasn't a common ability.

Suddenly, in the silence, I saw him for the first time. He was wearing a dirty, white t-shirt and torn jeans. The strange part was he was wearing a doctor mask so you don't spread airborne illnesses. At first he was standing behind a row of bushes looking down so I figured he was some drunk frat kid who didn't feel like looking for a bathroom until he slowly began to look up. So far the only people I had dreamt of since I began this little experiment were my sleeping roommate and a nonresponsive Max. Otherwise it was like the world was devoid of human life. Now, though, here was this guy and I realized he was looking right at me. Not through me like Max had but instead it was like he was letting me know I could see him. I stood and waved to him hoping to ask what the deal was with this dream but he stepped backward. He smiled behind the mask and waved back. As soon as he had he turned and ran into the woods between the dorms and the ball fields. I stepped forward but he was gone. He was impossibly fast but I had to just keep reminding myself that I'm not used to dreams so this was probably normal. After a few moments I walked back into the dorm and up to my room. I paused over my own body, this is just so weird. I placed my hand on the shoulder of my sleeping self and awoke in bed moments later as though that was the cue to wake up.

When my eyes popped open everything was as it should be but my eyes ached my body ached and I was just so tired. It felt like I was being drained ever so slowly. I packed up my shit for class and sat back on my bed. Not today way too tired. I emailed my professors to let them know I would be happy to complete any assignments if they would just email me the work and closed my laptop. I couldn't go back to sleep so I wandered over to the coffee shop. Max was sitting in a booth in the window waving franticly at me. Pushed through the door and the bell shook me. All night I dreamt of silence and the chaos in this shop seemed to echo off the inside of my brain. It was like being up all night drinking Jagermeister and redbull then waking up for work in the early morning. Light and sound were actually painful. Max took one look at me,

"Shit, were you up all night drinking?" I shook my head,

"No, I did what you said. I saw you sitting outside drawing and I saw some other dude too. Woke up and" Before I could get any further Max started bouncing in her seat and waving her hands so fast she nearly knocked over her coffee.

"oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. So I actually was at your dorm last night." She pulled out her sketch pad and slid it over to me. It was the same drawing from my dream.

"Wait, how did you do that? I didn't tell you about what was on the drawing. How did you know?" She took a deep breath and calmed herself down. She had a lot to say and she wanted desperately for me to understand her.

"Alright, what I am going to tell you is going to sound bizarre and something out of a crappy Netflix movie but hear me out. I believe you are not dreaming. I think you are projecting." She held up a finger so as not to be interrupted. "It's called astral projection and some people can do it on command. It's like meditating but your spirit or whatever comes out of your body while you're unconscious. I slip into the astral plane. The general belief is that this realm is where spirits go while they wait to cross over. A kind of purgatory, god and satan's waiting room if you will." She must have seen the look on my face because she rushed on to get it all out. "You may have been born with an ability to cross over when you fall asleep. You're worn out because your brain is remaining fully active while you're 'sleeping' but since you can't seem to control it I am willing to bet that is why your meds prevent you from 'dreaming'." By now she was so excited she could barely contain herself so I interjected while I had the chance.

"Okay, so if what you're saying is true that means that my mom has been lying to me all these years and now I can wander around the world with the ghosts? What about Doctor guy? Was he just some guy on campus or will I be able to see ghosts too?"

"Well, if popular belief if to be believed, my guess is you should be able to see lingering spirits but they might not be able to communicate with you. It depends on the mental stability of that person or spirit." I shook my head. I just stepped into a goosebumps story somehow.

"Netflix isn't exactly a research tool. How do you know all this?"

"My aunt owns one of those Wiccan supply stores. You know with all the candles, incense and tarot cards? She taught me all kinds of stuff about the occult and spirits and demons. I was hoping I could take you to see her. She's sort of an expert and has certain abilities."

"Alright, we are way out of my element here." First my meds, then dreams, now I am what, a ghost walker? And who the hell is that doctor guy. I took a deep breath. "Alright, we can go see your creepy aunt tomorrow. I want to see what happens tonight." She brightened again,

"Do you want me to wait for you again?" I shrugged, she couldn't see me but she was probably going to show up anyway.

"If you want to." She clapped and snatched her coffee off the table. She had to head to a class but promised she would wait outside and that I was to touch her again so she would know I was there. I shrugged and she nearly skipped out of the coffee shop. My shoulders sagged against the metal wrungs of the chair as I tried to sort out what the hell was going on. Time to call mom. No sooner had I thought it did my phone ring. Speak of the devil. I slid my finger along the screen to answer and before I could say another word she started to shout.

"Michael please tell me you are taking your medicine. I got a call from your professor letting me know he thought you weren't taking them. He also told me I should look into your dreams. What is going on up there? I think you should come home. Just in case…" I shut her down quick,

"Mom chill out, I'm fine. It was just an experiment for my dream journal. Nothing has happened and I haven't had any seizures. In fact I'm sort of dreaming but I'm not used to it so I'm adjusting."

"That's it. I want you to come home. I want you to take your meds as soon as you get off the phone, pack your things and head home." She hesitated, "Before you have another dream."

"Mom, what is going on?" She sighed hard

"I don't have time to explain but, honey, you can't dream. It's not safe. Please come home." With a calming voice I explained I couldn't leave school but I would be fine. I told her she needs to tell me the truth but in the mean time I have work to do. She hated that idea but she didn't have much choice. I'm an adult now. Looking back I wish I had listened to her.

That night was the strangest yet. As per usual I 'woke up' in bed that night and the darkness closed in. As I pushed open the door to the courtyard Max was in her spot at the bench. Eyes darting from the door to her pad to her watch. I walked over to see her master piece and she was drawing me. I was on the other side of the bushes facing her. Right where mask face guy had been standing. It wasn't until I spotted something over my shoulder that I began to get nervous. It was doctor freaky. He was a few paces behind me smiling with his eyes behind the mask. He was close but not close enough to reach. I touched Maxes shoulder as promised and she jumped as though I had slapped her back. She started talking, staring straight ahead. Despite the obvious excitement and maybe even concern she never made a sound. It was like her voice was turned off. She stiffened suddenly and pointed. She looked terrified. I followed her finger out toward the woods behind the bushes. There he was.

He was no more than 20 feet away from me. For the first time I could see he was holding something. It was a blade of some kind. Something from a science fiction show. He had rope or cord wrapped around his shoulder. He looked like he was going on an expedition. It didn't occur to me to be afraid until he looked at me, then to Max. He pointed to her with his knife and grinned. Max went white as a sheet and took off racing down the path away from the dorms. She had left her sketch pad and I thought that really odd. I tried to pick it up but my fingers passed right through the paper. I would have to wake up and come outside. When I returned my attention to the knife wielding doctor he was looking back at me. I stepped toward him but froze when he swung the blade in my direction. He grinned at me and turned to run for the woods again. I wanted to see what was in that sketch book so I went back inside instead and up to my room.

I woke up sweating and delirious. It wasn't that hot in the room but it felt like I had been running for quite some time. I immediately remembered the sketchbook but I had no idea how much time had passed. I really had hoped no one had stolen it but I was pleasantly surprised to find it where she had left it. I sat on the bench to take a look at her drawings. As I flipped through the pages I became more and more concerned. She had drawn the doctor before. Several times as well as myself. In every picture he was a bit closer to me. The first one was from last week. She knew something she wasn't telling me so I could only hope that she or her aunt had some answers. All I wanted to do was dream. Look where that got me.